Page 84 of Hidden Hero

“Janice,” Cora instructed gently, “walk very calmly to the door.”

Jeremy’s heart clenched. He wanted it to be Cora stepping out, safe and unharmed. But he knew her too well. She would never put herself ahead of her staff.

A faint shuffle caught his attention. He turned to see one of the State Police SWAT officers kneeling by the door, his weapon aimed and ready. Jeremy’s breath hitched. If Buford stayed in place when Janice stepped out, the SWAT officer would have a clean shot.

He glanced back at the door, his vision narrowing to the slight movement on the other side. He prayed silently, willing Cora to hold on just a little longer. They were so close.

The door opened, but Buford had stepped back out of sight. “Goddammit!” Jeremy groaned under his breath. He moved out of the way to allow Janice to slip through to safety.

Her face was pale, her wide eyes darting around nervously. She leaned toward the closest officer and whispered, “She has a scalpel.”

Jeremy’s brow furrowed. “What did you say?” he asked, stepping closer.

Pete’s hand clamped down on his shoulder, pulling him back. Jeremy spun around, ensuring the intercom wasn’t transmitting his voice into the room. When Emilio gave him a confirming nod, Janice repeated, “Cora has a scalpel in her hand. He doesn’t know she has it.”

“Does she have a plan?” Pete asked, his voice low and urgent.

Janice shook her head, her voice trembling. “No. Nothing was planned. We were in the middle of an autopsy when he burst in. She moved to the other side of the table, and when he pulled out the gun, she stepped back. I saw her hand moving along the edge of the table, searching. The scalpel was nearby, so I pushed it toward her.”

Jeremy felt a rush of gratitude for Janice’s quick thinking, but it was quickly overshadowed by unease. While he was glad Cora wasn’t entirely defenseless, a scalpel was little more than a last-ditch tool against a man having a full-blown breakdown—especially one armed with a gun.

Elizabeth stepped forward, taking Janice gently by the arm and guiding her out of the morgue. She returned moments later, her expression set and professional.

Emilio flipped the intercom back on, his voice calm and steady. “Pastor Grissley, thank you for letting Janice leave unharmed. We know you’re a good man who believes in the sanctity of life. We trust you wouldn’t want to hurt anyone else.”

Jeremy bit back a scoff at Emilio’s words, but Pete’s elbow jabbed him in the ribs. Jeremy shot him a glare, but Pete’s expression was clear: Let the negotiator do his job.

“Tell us why you’re here, Pastor Grissley,” Emilio encouraged. “Help us understand how we can assist you.”

Through the intercom, Buford’s voice wavered between defiance and despair. “I talked to Roy’s wife,” he said. “She told me the doctor here violated his body even though she didn’t want it to happen. That’s not right. But… I also know that’s how… how… some things were found out.”

Jeremy’s gut twisted at the implication. This wasn’t just about what he’d been doing. He was fucking unhinged.

“I understand, Pastor Grissley,” Emilio said, his voice even. “But we need you to put the weapon down. Let us come in and talk to you. No one’s here to hurt you. We just want to work this out.”

“This place isn’t right,” Buford said, his voice rising in agitation. “What she’s doing here… it isn’t right.”

“We’re not here to debate what happens in this hospital,” Emilio said firmly. “What matters right now is everyone’s safety—including yours. Put the gun down, and we can talk.”

There was a pause. Then finally, Buford said wearily, “Okay.”

Jeremy exhaled sharply, the weight on his chest lifting just slightly. If he’s willing to put the gun down, maybe this nightmare will end. He didn’t care what happened to Buford after that as long as Cora was safe.

“That’s a good first step,” Emilio said. “Now, all you need to do is lay the gun on the floor?—”

“No,” Buford interrupted, his voice tense. “Not yet. I want this woman to walk in front of me. I don’t trust that no one will try to hurt me.”

Jeremy’s fists clenched, his control slipping. Pete’s hand tightened on his shoulder, anchoring him. Jeremy glanced sideways and caught the steely expressions of Sam, Aaron, Mark, and Brad. They’d all been in similar situations and understood what he was going through. Their silent resolve gave him the strength to hold it together.

He edged closer to the window in the door. From this angle, he could see Cora standing with her hands clasped tightly in front of her. Buford loomed just behind her, the gun trained on her back.

“Officer Gomez?” Cora’s voice came through the intercom.

“Yes, Dr. Wadsworth,” Emilio replied, his tone unwavering.

“Pastor Grissley is behind me,” she said, her voice calm but laced with tension. “He’s asked me to walk toward the door. He wants assurance that no one will try to come in or harm him. He has the gun pointed at me.”

“I see you,” Emilio replied, his eyes trained on the window. “Just keep walking forward. The deputies are standing down. Pastor Grissley, as long as you don’t hurt Dr. Wadsworth, no one here will hurt you.”

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